


Burnin' For You

by Mnemos9



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternating Tenses, Dominant Castiel, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Second Person, Porn, Roadside Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, Submissive Dean, admission of feelings, against the Impala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemos9/pseuds/Mnemos9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cas told you to pull the Impala off into a small clearing he had found during his human travels, you had practically swerved into a tree in your haste to do so. You barely had time to unbuckle your seat belt before he had you pushed up against the side of the car and claimed you with his lips. You had pushed back, desperate for more of him and had almost sobbed in relief when Cas had pulled back and whispered instructions in your ear while unbuckling his pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnin' For You

Cas smacks his cock into your swollen lips, biting his own and telling you to take it deeper. He weaves a tender vice grip through your short hair as he fucks your face. It’s a little tough to keep up because you’re unused to the act, never having really sucked dick much before. But you’re learning fast because it’s Cas and you want every inch of him that you can possibly have. And you don’t think about Hell at all because this is something no one can take from either of you. You’re bound-it’s simple as that. Nothing to scoff at. Not anymore. 

Cas thrusts hard, with a kind of confidence he’s been gaining even faster than you have. Turns out that subjugation is _really_ your thing in the bedroom. Also public restrooms, darkened alleyways, hell, even Baby herself. She’s been your bedroom on wheels for years but she’s used to seeing _you_ in charge. He makes you choke with his enthusiasm. The muscles of your throat try to reject the invasive length. You can't get them to relax but he shoves down your protesting esophagus with ease. Not without restraint. You know from experience how controlled he is in this moment. Cas knows your limits and he likes to press them.

Makes sense. That being dominated gets you off as much as it does. You hear that kind of thing about guys who have lived lives like you have. Though there aren’t many who have. You don’t know how your brother is in that area and you never want to find out.  All you know is that doing this with Cas makes you hard like nothing else.  Drowning in saliva and precum that spills down your chin and chest, you fight for the smallest breath between thrusts as your eyes stream helplessly. The slick pops and wet slurps echo in the mostly still air as you fight the gag reflex. Tears blind but you can still hear his commands, low grunts and pleasured moans. You respond with embarrassingly aroused and needy noises that you’d never make in anyone else’s presence.

It has to be a record, how long you’ve gone without watching porn at this point. Partners there have been plenty of, but not _a partner_. Lisa was close but even then you’d wake up at 4:23 in the morning to go jerk it to whatever was on the front page of the site that was doing it for you that month. He's tearing hairs from your skull and one time his pelvis hits your face so hard you can hear the cartridge in your nose snap. Doesn’t hurt and no one stops. You look up through the torrent of tears and marvel at how beautiful he is, panting in the dim glow from an old street light that buzzes and flickers feebly nearby. When your eyes meet he laughs weakly and strokes your soaking cheek with the rough pad of his thumb. What a sight you must be, knees angled into the ground with one hand gripping onto his upper thigh for support, your ring finger and pinky laced through the belt loops of his pants to hold them up.  The other hand is wrapped around his slick, engorged length. Your own aches against the restraints of your jeans but you can’t stop to take care of it now.  You flex your grip and Cas makes a noise of encouragement. The blood in his cock surges almost painfully where you squeeze.

The kind of release you get with Cas is something that goes beyond sex. You know the true name for it but it still freaks you out a little. It lessens with every day. With every sly glance, every lingering touch, every trace of his moist lips over your feverish skin. So this is love, huh? You pull back with a wet gasp, taking in the cold night air. He reaches down to dry your face a little as you inhale. A whimper escapes from your lips as the heat from that touch surges to your loins. Your tongue laps the head of his cock while you jerk Cas off. A little shudder goes through him and the thigh you're supporting yourself with prickles, tiny bumps rising under your sweaty fingertips. You fall into the rhythm easier now that you direct it. 

It had been terrifying those first few times but only because you were so freaked about messing up. When you told him this later he smiled and wrapped a hand around your neck to pull you close and croon that it would have been impossible. That your friendship had been heading to this point for so long that there was no possible way being together _could_ be wrong.  Times like these, you have to agree with him. The saliva that didn’t spill out is distributed in the hollows of your cheeks and when you take him in your mouth, you tongue the remainder over and around his member. You pull back again unable to resist the sight of his flushed, glistening cock that throbs in your fist. Grinning wickedly up at him, you pump the shaft and swallow him back up. A tremendous flood of relief accompanies the sensation of enveloping his flesh again. Your eyelids flutter shut as you suck, pulling him into you further with a moan of satisfaction. The world is reduced to his cock and how good it feels to have in your mouth.

This has to be the best form of worship. Sex never meant love before Cas but you see how it  can be. How giving your body over to him each time brings you closer than you were before. It’s an experience you had started to believe was forever beyond your grasp. _He_ had always been beyond your reach. Then he had reached out for you and this time you held on. He has a firm grip on your shoulder that aches as the fragmented gasps of Enochian curses drift into your awareness. You’re getting the hang of this pretty quickly, letting the desire push you onto him. There isn’t enough access and soon both of your hands are braced on his thighs as you deep throat it. He cries your name and it goes straight to your groin as he pulls your head in. Ramming him down your throat is the only function that you’re able to perform and it makes you feel filthy and hot. Like something you should have been doing all along.

Sometimes the emotion is so great and terrible that it overwhelms you. Sometimes you cry, which is something no one ever wants to do during sex. Especially all the super _gay_ sex you’ve been having, which is so much hotter than any sex you’ve had before it. Then again, it’s with Cas, who’s beyond gender and all that. Cas, who embraces you when the tears fall and kisses a trail across wet cheeks to hungry lips that devour his. You forget how to do anything else. Making Cas understand how you feel with your actions and body rises to the top on the list of priorities. It’s certainly your favorite. The need to consume him pushes breathing down on your current list. Resilient is what you are and you prove it as you hold him at the back of your throat while moving just enough to create friction. Even angels need to get off though and Cas bucks into you a little. Before you can gag you pull back out, swallowing and engulfing him without missing a beat. Hands remain planted on warm thighs and your head bobs as your tongue coils around his shaft and head. Cas whispers your name again and resumes his bucking, panting harder as his grip tightens.

Once you asked Cas how he handled it. All the emotion was new for him too, right? Did he deal it in in a spiritual way-some angelic wisdom that made him all zen about it? The answer was long and impossibly beautiful but basically it was that the thought of returning to something platonic was far more terrifying than the flood of very complicated and confusing emotions Cas was going through with you. Because if you would allow it, he would still be beside you-well, at a distance in the event that this were to occur. He had begun to say that would be of course, if you would ever even want to see him again in the aftermath of such a thing but you had cut him off with your lips. You pulled him in and told him that you were never letting him go again. You meant it. He’s close, you can tell. The great thing about Cas being a dude (essentially) is that you know how to read and work his body as if it were your own.  The first time you tried this you hadn’t been sure what to do until it had hit you to just try things you remembered liking and it had proven _very_ effective.  Now you snake your tongue around the entirety of his length, increasing the suction and the pace of your movements. Aches are building up in several muscles; most noticeably your neck but you push all of it aside. _This_ is what matters-that you give him your damned best and after you’ll ingest every last drop you can wring from him because it’s become a necessity. Humans and symbolism, go figure. 

When Cas told you to pull the Impala off into a small clearing he had found during his human travels, you had practically swerved into a tree in your haste to do so. You barely had time to unbuckle your seat belt before he had you pushed up against the side of the car and claimed you with his lips. You had pushed back, desperate for more of him and had almost sobbed in relief when Cas had pulled back and whispered instructions in your ear while unbuckling his pants. Now as he fucks your mouth you push back to meet his movements and the two of you synchronize perfectly. Your entire body becomes an instrument for the act as you demonstrate your devotion. You show Cas your love with your feverish determination as your attentions come to focus on his head. He hisses your name into the night and you encouragingly assault him with the skill of your tongue. Finally Cas comes and you feel every glorious second of it as you plaster yourself to his body. The explosion is swept down your throat and you greedily continue to suck even as he shakes and pushes at you, over sensitizing in the wake of orgasm.

Drawing back, you smile up at him while he smiles down. You both pant heavily and it takes you several moments to realize that the blackened street light cracked  when Cas came. It’s a wonder you can see his smile at all. Being an angel, he has no problem seeing you or the bulge in your jeans that’s painfully persistent. He takes his pants from your hold and secures them before kneeling down and hoisting you to your feet. Your knees ache and he has you pressed up against Baby again before you have time to even make a comment about getting kneepads to carry around in the trunk. Neither of you say it aloud but the breathless message you exchange is clear.  When he pulls back to let your annoying human lungs re-inflate you see it in his eyes. The same sappy look is probably on your face too. Or at least it will be, his hands are promising. Hands that move to bring closure to the expression shared between the two of you.  When he kneels and mimics your gestures, you can feel the devotion in your actions being returned by someone you never thought you’d be able to love like this. Now that you can, you do it with all the ferocity that a Winchester can summon.  When you finish you pull him into an embrace and hours later he pulls you into another one as the two of you watch the rising sun kiss the last hues of darkness from the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Needed to do something while they deprive us of Cas beating Dean senseless about the Mark of Cain business. Started this during lunch on 02/02/14 and it just took on a life of its' own. First real experiment with Second Person P.O.V. and it was **so** much fun.
> 
>  _Constructive_ criticism is highly desired.
> 
> Title is from the song of the same name by Blue Oyster Cult, which also doubles as a soundtrack for the story.
> 
> R.I.P. Phillip Seymour Hoffman (the dates coincide, the fact that it's dirty has no connection) 
> 
> If you read to this sentence, know that I love you for doing so and wish you a fantastic life in general :D


End file.
